


Stories from Apartment Block S-4

by Feneris



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Apartments, Fireworks, Gen, Lessons learned, New Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 08:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9377150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feneris/pseuds/Feneris
Summary: Looking back on their memories of university was always an interesting experience. Some where a joy to relieve, some a pain to recall. Some enlightening, some confusing, and some were burned into their subconscious with vivid clarity. Some were also burned into their skin in some places as well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Blame ThisCat for getting me hooked on this webcomic, especially right when the author drops a major cliff hanger. Anyway, a bunch of nerding about S^4 gave me thing fic and a few other ideas. Hope you guys enjoy.

Looking back on their years at university together, the memory that stood the most vividly was what was collectively known as “The New Years Eve Incident.” It wasn’t their fondest memory, not by a long shot, nor even their most significant one. But it had burned itself into their memory with such vividness, that they could still recall it clearly decades later.

It had also burned itself into their skin in several places, which probably had a lot to do with that.

The incident in question had started just after their first semester at university. Tuuri, feeling slightly lonely, had decided that the best way to combat her homesickness was to host a New Years party. Nothing big she had assured her cousin Lalli, just some snacks, some drinks, and maybe some fireworks. They would only invite the people in their housing block, she had gone on to reassure her cousin. It would be a good way to get to know them a little better. Just, Emil, the Swede majoring in chemistry next door to them, Reynir the anthropology major who was just glad to get off the farm for once in his life, Sigrun the star athlete of the university track team, and Mikkel the first-year professor who seemed to get switched to a different department every semester. 

None of them had had any plans for New Years, and were more or less happy to accept Tuuri’s invitation. Mikkel had thought it might be weird to be drinking with a bunch of university students on New Years, but Sigrun had dragged him along with the point that he would otherwise be drinking alone. 

In any case, Tuuri had had no problem getting the snacks and drinks planned, helped along by Sigrun showing up with a bag from the local liquor store filled to the brim with spirits. 

The problem was the fireworks. Tuuri wanted to have at least a few for her New Years celebration, she wanted them desperately. The problem was that her older brother Onni had always put his foot down whenever she suggested it, and went on to lecture her about how fireworks were extremely dangerous and that she could seriously burn herself or blow off a limb. The problem was, he hadn’t even been exaggerating their either. When Tuuri had gone on the internet to see if she could learn how to do a homemade fireworks display, she had gotten bombarded with horrifying images of gruesome injuries people had suffered when they played with fireworks. Therefore she reluctantly admitted that if she wanted to have fireworks, she should leave it up to someone who knew what they were doing.

It was sheer coincidence she had run into Emil and had thought to ask if he knew anything about fireworks. 

Emil had said yes, he knew lots about fireworks. It never occurred to him to mention that most of his knowledge was theoretical and was mostly on how to make fireworks. Therefore Tuuri had no reservations about leaving all the fireworks planning to him. In her defence, the only thing she had really known about him at the time was that he was majoring in chemistry and wanted to go into demolitions engineering.

The party itself had actually gone very well. Everyone had showed up at Tuuri and Lalli’s apartment, made themselves a drink, got some snacks, and then just sat around chatting while they waited for it to get dark enough they could do the fireworks. They listened to Sigrun’s stories about the track team, Mikkel’s horror tales from teaching, Reynir’s relief that he had finally gotten off the farm and wasn’t doomed to spend his whole life tending sheep, and even Lalli joined in with a few remarks of his own. They didn’t even need to get drunk. Sigrun had drunk the most out of all of them, and she was only partially buzzed. Emil hadn’t even drunk at all, saying that because he was in charge of the fireworks, he should at least stay sober, at least until the show was done. 

Tuuri almost wished he had been drunk. At least then she would have had something else to blame for what happened next. 

As soon as it had gotten dark enough, they had gone out to the field outside the apartment to a spot where there were several concrete picnic tables for them to sit on. Emil, it turned out, had brought a large sea-chest, stuffed to the brim with fireworks, most of them store-bought, but some, he explained proudly, he had made himself.

The huge pile he had made in the middle of the field had been somewhat worrying. So had the large archaic plunger detonator Emil had also brought with him. But, Tuuri assured herself, Emil had said he knew what he was doing.

None of them would ever make that mistake again.

The first wave of fireworks going off was followed shortly after by the first wave of calls to 911. The most notable of them had been the old lady from block D-4, who had screamed something about how the terrorist were attacking and that they had just blown up a building and would probably kill them all.

Lalli had hit the ground the moment the first bottle-rocket arced over the picnic table and was already running before his vision even cleared. He would be found later, fast asleep under Emil’s sofa with Kitty, the apartment block’s mascot.

Everyone else scrambled for cover under the concrete picnic tables. All around them multicolored fire blazed, and bright pieces of burning shrapnel bounced off their concrete shelter. Reynir muttered prayers to every god he could think of, and a few he made up on the spot. Though he couldn’t be sure he got the words right as his ears were ringing something fierce.

Then the second wave of fireworks, the ones with the delayed fuses, decided it was their turn to detonate.

The fourth wave had just finished going off when the fire department arrived. Emil was still standing by the detonator. The look on his face was that of a man who has just seen God and now knows beyond any doubt that He is awe-inspiring and powerful. It was quite a scene. Bits of smoldering shrapnel was still raining from the sky, some of the bushes were still smoking, and Sigrun was trying desperately to stomp out her jacket.

Then all of Emil’s homemade fireworks decided that it was finally their turn to take the stage.

The old lady in D-4 was screaming to the 911 operator about how it was the End of The World as We Know It and that everyone was going to die.

Looking back on the incident the next day, it had hit everyone how big of a miracle it had been that no one had gotten killed and none of the nearby buildings had been burnt to the ground. As it was, the concrete picnic tables still had the black scars on their surface from magnesium burns, several surrounding trees had been scorched black, and there were still patches in that park where the grass refused to grow back.

The only person who had escaped unburned was Lalli, who had quite sensibly fled the moment the first firecracker had gone off. It was a very good thing that Mikkel had known first aid. Still none of the burns had been life-threatening. The worst was Sigrun who escaped with a large second-degree burn up her arm, when a fragment of flaming barium had burned through her jacket and set it on fire. 

She claimed the burn had been, “Totally worth it,” on the grounds that the fireworks display had been, “The most awesome thing she had ever seen.”

A few surreptitious calls to shady relatives had been needed to avoid having Emil hauled off to jail on criminal charges. However nothing could bury the reputation Emil gained as being a public menace that should not be allowed near fire. 

But time healed the burns, and everyone went back to their lives united under a sense of comradery that only really comes with having survived a traumatic event together.

The Fire-Chief would also admit later that it hadn’t actually been necessary to spray Emil down with the firehose, but it had made everyone feel a lot better about what happened that night.


End file.
